Page 69 of The Alice Equation (The Laws of Love 1)

His eyes narrowed. “And I love when you talk dirty to me, baby.”

“You haven’t heard anything yet.” She giggled against his damp neck as his weight shifted over her.

She opened to accommodate him. Felt the push, the stretch, the deep, deep satisfaction of taking him inside her.

“Oh, Shit. Al-ice. You feel A-maz-ing.”

She flung her legs around him, squeezing her thighs around his buttocks to bring him closer… closer…

Her head thumped the headboard and Aaron lowered her effortlessly down the bed; threaded their hands together above their heads to steady them as his rhythm quickened. His skin flushed; his eyes lost focus. She felt his heart slamming into hers. It was like he filled every one of her cells.

A moment later and Aaron’s features contorted. He shouted “Alice!” and she held him while his body spasmed and finally sagged against her.

For long moments afterwards she stroked his hair, as his breathing slowed.

Clearly he needed a little help to return to earth, too.

When he rolled off her a shard of fear pierced her belly. What if he just got up, and left her bereft?

But he didn’t. He did a little neat disposal trick with the condom, turned on his side to face her and his gaze held hers steadily.

He leaned over and kissed her eyelids, her lips and said, “I think that might have constituted a bit more than flirting.”

* * *

With every item of clothing he put back on, the magic seemed to be slipping away. With every moment spent away from his bed, both of them getting ready to face the world again, it was like an arctic cold was taking over his heart. It had felt so good. But now it all felt wrong.

Aaron rummaged around for a clean T-shirt. He’d offered to take Alice home on his way to the office. He had to brief the barrister first thing tomorrow and he couldn’t afford to get it wrong. Nor could he wear Cold Chisel with a rip in it, smelling of sex. Just in case a partner came into the office. Besides, he didn’t want to sit in the office and be reminded of Alice tearing it off him, her perfume lingering, driving him nuts while he tried to focus on writing up a report. She was bending over, putting on one of her shoes, flicking a strand of hair behind her ear, and he looked from her to the bed with a pang of longing.

In bed they’d talked and laughed and kissed and…

In his bed they’d shared the best sex ever…

His body tightened, his thoughts a scrambled mess. Alice and he… werefriends.You didn’t have sex withfriends.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She was smiling at him now, her eyes too bright. His gaze alighted on the torn piece of paper by the window with their notes on it and his throat closed up. Her Tinder date. Some guy in her future. Not him.

“Great, let’s go,” he got out of tight lips.

She picked up the shreds of paper and put them in her bag before following him out. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the implications of that. They didn’t speak on the way down to his car. They didn’t speak as he drove out of his car space or on the road to her place.

How were they going to navigate this now? It had got complicated, he’d let it—no, for Christ’s sake—he’dencouragedit, orchestrated it, even. At the traffic lights he drummed the steering wheel with his fingers, turned on the radio. It was some soppy love song and he turned it off pronto.

After a minute more of agonising silence, Alice asked, “What have you got to do at the office?”

He launched into a spiel of boring shit about the case he was working on and how the barrister was a complete pompous arsehole and on and on, blab, blab, blab.

She made polite noises. How come they couldn’t maintain a remotely normal conversation anymore? They were behaving for all the world like complete strangers who’d struck up a conversation at the bus stop.

They’d turned into Alice’s suburb with its main street full of Thai and Vietnamese and Korean restaurants; ones they’d eaten at so many times. Would they ever do that again? A dark chasm opened up in his chest and his spine turned rigid.

Suddenly Alice said, “Aaron, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“What was that?” He forgot not to look at her, and the way her head tilted, the angle of her chin, the soft curve of her cheek made his balls ache all over again. Was that a hickey? On her neck? Jesus Christ, he’d bitten her, bruised her, and he hadn’t even realised.

“Just in case you were worried,” she said. He had to force himself to focus on her words. “It doesn’t need to change anything between us.”

What was she talking about? It had fucking changed everything.

---